


You'll Be Back

by Fandoms_Are_Life37



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: American Revolution, And I like Hamilton so I wanted to write this, Hamilton References, Historical Hetalia, I'm not sure if I should have included Hamilton in the fandom section but I'm choosing not to, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mostly it's just full of sexual tension, Power Dynamics, Revolutionary War, Song: You'll Be Back (Hamilton), Songfic, Um it's a little angsty, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Yaoi, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24632863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_Are_Life37/pseuds/Fandoms_Are_Life37
Summary: America shows up to face England after the Boston Tea Party. England has some fun taunting and flustering him.
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia), America/England (Hetalia)
Kudos: 28





	You'll Be Back

**Author's Note:**

> Word count: 1,467
> 
> Estimated read time: 8 minutes
> 
> Inspired by You'll Be Back by Lin-Manuel Miranda from the musical Hamilton, sung by Jonathan Groff
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of sex, angsty (kind of)

"He's here."

Arthur Kirkland looked up from his throne, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. "America?"

The announcer nodded hesitantly. "Yes, your majesty."

"Bring him in."

The doors of the palace swung open with a creak. In the center was Alfred F. Jones, Arthur's boyfriend. Or, actually, ever since July the Fourth, his ex-boyfriend. But that would change.

He looked... fearful, Arthur decided. No, not fearful. Anxious. Part of him felt bad; he loved Alfred, deeply. But another part of him, a part that he tried to bury, was drunk on the power of it.

Alfred walked to the center of the room. Each of his footsteps echoed between the stone walls as he approached the throne. When he stopped, Arthur said nothing. He wanted to wait, watch Alfred squirm in the uncomfortable silence for a little longer.

"What do you want?" Alfred demanded. He'd have sounded confident if it weren't for the waver in his voice on the last word.

Deftly, Arthur pulled out a scroll and unrolled it. His eyes scanned the page before reading aloud. "When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation."

Arthur paused, looking up to see Alfred shift nervously before continuing. "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

Arthur paused again. "I must admit, America, it's well written. Very inspirational."

Alfred wasn't quite sure how to respond. "Thank you, but Thomas did most of the work."

"Ah, yes. Thomas Jefferson. The traitor."

"The revolutionary."

"I guess it all depends on how you look at it. But right now there's a decent list of insubordinate subjects in my colonies. Washington, Hancock, Franklin, Hamilton, Adams, Jay, Madison, Paine, Monroe... And you."

His eyes flashed with anger. "I'm not your subject."

"You're my colony."

"Not anymore. I'm going to be my own country. It's over and you know it. So why am I here?"

Arthur ignored the question. "You've cost me quite a bit of money between your little 'tea party' and your other petty acts of defiance, love."

Alfred shuddered. It was a subtle movement, but Arthur still saw it. "Good."

"No. We both know you're not happy with this. You were upset when you were throwing my things into Boston Harbor. My soldiers told me so."

"What do you mean?"

"I've told them to keep a close eye on you. Let me know what you're doing. Things like that. According to several witnesses, you cried. Or are all six of my spies mistaken?"

A twinge of shame flickered across his face. "No, I didn't! I hate you."

"Come now, America, stop with the lying. I know when you lie. Your eyes go to the right for just an instant." Arthur got up, moving toward Alfred like a predator circling its prey. "I know everything about you. I know how you put your hands in your pockets when you're nervous. I know how you run them through your hair when you're stressed. I know how you bite your lip when you're focused." Arthur leaned in closer, purring into his ear, "I know how you arch your back when you come undone."

Alfred stepped back, feeling tingles run down his spine. He wasn't sure if they were a sign of attraction or fear, though. Maybe some of both. "So what?"

"So you need me. You can't stand on your own yet. How much money does your country have? How strong is your ragtag army? How many allies do you have? Maybe you could run off to France like I know you're planning. Convince him to sign a treaty or something of the sort. But I know you. The real you and your manifestation." He trailed his fingers across Alfred's shoulders as he walked behind him, grinning devilishly. "I've mapped every centimeter of you. You can let France kiss you, touch you, love you, but you'll think of me. You'll miss me. When he bites your neck, you'll think of the nights we shared. When he holds your hand, you'll remember my grip. And when he betrays you, claims you, takes over your land, you'll wish you stayed. You will come running back to me, begging me for help, pleading for me to take you back. To be mine again. You'll be back, darling. And when you are on your knees upon this very same floor, desperate and submissive, I'll comply."

Every one of his words hung in the air like the musket smoke at Lexington. Something inside Alfred said he might be right. France may help him and turn on him to become a bigger world power. But his will was louder.

"I won't," Alfred shot back, sounding surer than he felt. "I'll never be yours again. Ever."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "We'll see. It all depends on whether or not you can get your troops whipped into shape. The odds don't look good for you, do they? I mean, 230,000 men aren't much. And it seems you never have more than 13,000 in a singular place. 48,000 at any given time."

"You sure seem to pay me a lot of mind. Don't you have better things to do?"

"Better than tend to my beautiful, sweet, precious colony?"

Alfred flushed red. "Not yours. And not a colony anymore."

He rolled his eyes. "So specific, dear, but not the point. Do you know how powerful I am?"

"How am I supposed to respond to that?"

A chuckle. "How about I just tell you? I'm the largest empire in history. Let's start there. I've been the world superpower for a century. I'm the biggest colonial power, too. I own almost a quarter of the entire Earth. It's like that saying. 'The sun never sets on the British Empire.' And they're right, it doesn't."

Alfred knew this already, but it didn't make him feel any better to hear it again. Canada had already explained it thrice, begging him not to make England mad. But he didn't listen. "Why are you telling me this?"

"To remind you of your place. Rise against me and I'll crush you into the mud," Arthur snarled, uncomfortably close to Alfred's face.

He gulped anxiously, scooting back. "I'll win. I'm going to win this war."

"Lying to ourselves again, are we? But back on track. I want to know why you're doing all this. What is it, a call for attention? Are you trying to convince me that I should value you more? Give you more of my time?"

"No! It's a call for independence. I don't want you, England, and I don't need you. Just you watch. I'm going to fight- hard. I'm going to win and I'm going to expand. Move inland once your stupid Proclamation of 1763 is gone. One day, I'll be the world power. Your empire will crumble, just like every empire before it. Who knows? Maybe you'll even need help from me. But when the time comes, don't bother asking. The answer is no."

Alfred thought that his monologue was convincing, or, at the least, assertive. But England burst out laughing so hard he had to sit back down on his throne.

It wasn't exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for. "What?"

"Oh, Christ," England said through gasps and fits of laughter, "That was funny. You just made my morning, America."

"Just shut up! You're the worst and I don't want to be a part of your empire anymore! You're conceited, cruel, selfish, greedy, and unappreciative! I'm sick of being under your thumb all the time and feeling like I'm always trapped in some kind of sick chess game! I'm not your pawn, England! I've had enough!"

Alfred turned on his heel and marched toward the doors but before he could reach them, the two guards crossed their spears, blocking his exit. Pivoting again, he glared at Arthur, who still seemed amused.

"Let me out."

He gave one last chuckle and a small shrug, gesturing for the guards to let him pass. "Alright, darling. See you soon."

Still red with rage, Alfred pushed the doors open, listening to them slam behind him as he stormed out of the palace. He was going to be on the first ship back home.

Back in the stone hall, Arthur stared after him, still grinning. Oh, this was going to be fun.


End file.
